


Model Behavior

by ladyknightanka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Model, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Mild Language, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-12
Updated: 2012-03-12
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:13:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknightanka/pseuds/ladyknightanka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his wife's death, John Winchester becomes a model to support his sons, then eventually creates his own modeling company. Sam and Dean have grown up the heirs to a fashion empire. Adam, however, has not, so his brothers help him get more comfortable in his skin like a model should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Model Behavior

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://ladyknightanka.livejournal.com/31813.html). Enjoy. ♥

-

Model Behavior

-

Adam melts into a divan, neck craned back against its rightmost arm, one leg draped over the left, the other bent at the knee so his socked foot can touch the plush red carpet lining the floor. His suit, a Prussian blue pinstripe that contrasts beautifully with the crimson of his seat and his icy eyes, is in disarray, unbuttoned to fan out and display his slightly crinkled white dress shirt.

There’s a flash. Adam blinks. “No, no, love,” someone says, French accent sensual and slightly patronizing. “You’re messing up my shot.”

“Balthazar, aren’t we done yet? This photoshoot’s wasted three hours of my life already.” Adam flings an arm over his eyes. It had previously been tucked under his head, while its twin hugged his stomach. His growling stomach.

“I can tell time,” the French photographer replies with a smirk. When Adam merely glares at him, lips pursed to hold in another whine, Balthazar sighs. “All right, princess, one more scene. Get on the bed.”

Adam narrows his eyes, but does as asked and sits primly on the edge of a four-poster monstrosity, comprised of silk and Egyptian cotton and all the other crap he tells himself he won’t miss once he’s back at his fixer-upper apartment. The bed does feel nice against his palms, though. “Now what?”

“Get comfortable, “ says Balthazar. He flicks the wrist of his free hand, while the other mans the camera. “Start undoing the tie. Yes, just like that. Don’t be rough with it; Crowley will eat you alive if you ruin his precious wardrobe.” As he speaks, he takes pictures, documenting the process of Adam’s undressing. “You’re good at this, love. I’ve always thought you Winchesters would make _splendid_ strippers if you weren’t models.”

“Milligan, not Winchester,” Adam mutters.

Balthazar ignores him to continue, “That’s a good boy. Toss the tie aside. Now, start on the buttons of your–”

“Whoa, whoa, _whoa_!” Adam cuts in. “You want me to _what_ , now? I’m not getting naked on camera!”

“That’s never bothered your brothers,” Balthazar says, unfazed. One of his eyebrows is cocked and his lips are twisted into a leer. Smug bastard.

Adam flushes pink all over at the offhand comment. He’s seen the pictures Balthazar means – heck, _everyone_ probably has, since the Winchesters have been at the forefront of the fashion industry since John started modeling after his wife’s death. He’d created his own agency ten years later and it’s been almost twenty since; seventeen, to be exact. Dean and Sam both modeled a while, too, till Dean took over part of the company and Sam became its lawyer.

Adam opens his mouth to choke out a reply, but the door to Balthazar’s studio, currently set up to look like a high-end bedroom suite, is thrown open and interrupts. “Speak of the devil,” he murmurs.

Dean strolls in, dressed sloppily in a charcoal gray blazer and matching pants, courtesy of Crowley. The irritable designer would burn hot as brimstone, though, if he saw how little care Dean took of his suit, but Dean can’t help how he prefers designer plaid and denim, nor that Crowley refuses to make a line employing them.

“How’s the kid’s first cover job going?” Dean asks Balthazar. He hasn’t met Adam’s eyes yet, but that’s for the best. Adam is stubbornly staring at the carpet, not thinking about how he's probably ruined the monumental issue of Winchester magazine that's supposed to debut him.

Balthazar sees that and throws him under a bus. “It _was_ going fine until Marie Antoinette refused to go _au-naturel_.”

Adam hasn’t stopped blushing since he sat down on the bed, but his ears scorch even hotter now. “I’m not a fucking porn-star, Dean. I didn’t even want to model,” he says, fingers clinched into the material of his pants. He persists in avoiding Dean’s gaze.

There’s a half-minute of silence, then, “Hey, Bal, why don’tcha go take a break, man? I think Adam needs one. After we get some food in him, I’m sure he’ll be good as new.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Balthazar says, with a sarcastic two-finger salute. He replaces all of his film equipment and, upon directing a final smirk to Adam, ducks out.

“I won’t do it,” Adam tells his brother, bright blue eyes finally locking onto deep moss green. Dean crosses his arms and Adam's shoulders slump. His hugs himself again. “I don’t feel comfortable doing that. You can’t make me.”

In a stride and a half, Dean’s standing in front of him, head stooped so it’s level with Adam’s, as he's still sitting. “Why?” Dean asks. “You self-conscious about your body, kid? Because, you know, you _could_ be a porn star. I’d write you a glowing recommendation for that myself.”

He waggles his eyebrows and Adam glowers, but the pulsation of his heart is phasing right through his clothes to beat against his folded arms and it’s so damn distracting.

“What are you saying, Dean?” His brother answers in the form of a rough kiss, strong hands holding Adam steady by the shoulders. His tongue licks against Adam’s lips and Adam parts them willingly, his own hands gripped into Dean’s lapels. “Nice,” he says, once they pull apart with a wet smack of their lips.

“Don’t know if Bal would agree,” Dean replies, but his words huff out on a bass chuckle. One of his hands still rests on Adam’s shoulder and he uses it to push his youngest brother back against the bed, where he lands with a quiet ‘oof’. Dean’s eyes flash dark with lust. “But I gotta do my brotherly duty, whatever Bal thinks. I’mma teach you how to appreciate yourself, baby boy.”

“O-oh,” Adam stammers, throat suddenly dry and clothes too confining. He waits for Dean to follow him down and attack his bruised mouth again, but his older brother simply holds up a finger and extracts his phone from within his jacket. “Hey, Sammy,” Adam hears him say, gruff and throaty enough to inspire a moan, “you still working on the package for Winchester UK? Drop it. Adam has another package he needs you to handle.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Adam exclaims. Sam, however, seems to accept the proposal pretty quickly because Dean snaps his phone shut with a grin.

“Undo your buttons,” he says – commands, really, and it sends a spike of desire straight to Adam’s dick.

“O-okay,” Adam agrees. It’s easier with Dean than Balthazar, after all the practice they’ve had this past year, from the moment they first met. The buttons on his shirt feel cool to the touch, frigid gold. His hands tremble minutely, but in a few seconds, his torso is exposed to Dean’s inspection.

“Kinda cold in the studio, huh?” the eldest Winchester inquires. He shrugs off his jacket, sets it and his cufflinks aside, then climbs over Adam onto the bed, one hand splayed near Adam’s head, close enough that it’s tickled by Adam’s fair fan of hair.

He pinches the other hand’s thumb and forefinger together and flicks Adam’s pebbled nipple, smirking at his gasp. An instant later, that smirk is latched around the nub. Adam groans and curls his digits into the sleeve of Dean’s shirt, into Dean’s light brown locks. Their bodies are inches apart, so perfectly parallel that, when Dean rests more of his weight on Adam, _everything_ lines up. Adam grinds up into him as Dean grazes his nipple with teeth, then soothes the faint pain with another suck. They’re both hard already, in danger of ruining Crowley’s pants, but they couldn't care less about the latter.

The studio door opens and Dean pulls away to shoot a leer over his shoulder at Sam, who pouts. “You started without me?”

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean says, while Adam shrugs, somewhat annoyed by the interference. The feeling diminishes after Dean rolls to the side with a, “Have at it,” and Sam lopes forward to kiss him. Sam kisses gentler than Dean. His large hand cups Adam’s cheek like he’s a rare treasure. The only thing is, Sam enjoys using his teeth a bit too much, but Adam is intimately familiar with the sting of Sam’s nips by now, even relishes in them, just as Sam relishes in the light metal of not-quite-blood.

They extricate themselves just in time to watch Dean shimmy out of his pants and boxers and kick them away. His shirt’s in a pile on the floor, too. Certain his younger brothers are properly attentive of him, he envelops his cock in one hand and gives it a few tugs, till it’s fully erect and they can see the sheen of pre-come on its crown.

“Dea–” Before Adam can whimper out their older brother's name, Sam looks away from Dean and swallows Adam's ability to speak, pins him down by his wrists so he can’t touch himself the way he wants to.

“You two ever gonna finish the foreplay?” Dean asks after a moment, strokes still languid over his cock. “I wanna get this show on the road and you’re not even naked yet.”

It’s Sam who apologizes this time, his soft ‘sorry’ carried on laughter. He releases Adam’s wrists and moves to cradle the jut of his hips instead, where he pulls Adam’s pants down in one fluid gesture. He gives his younger brother a look and Adam shrugs again. “Modeling already makes me uncomfortable. Why add a wedgie to the problem?”

“And that’s what we’re here for: to get you comfortable in your skin,” Dean explains, more for Sam's benefit, since he hadn’t been there for the conversation earlier.

Sam responds with a mild caress across Adam’s ribs and adds, “’Cause we like your skin. It’s awesome skin.”

“Shut it, Shakespeare.” There’s no heat in Dean’s words. He turns around and bends to search through the pocket of his slacks. Adam wolf-whistles at his ass, which earns him a pucker of Dean's lips. Sam catches the half-empty bottle of lube tossed at him.

“You’re letting me go? No fight at all?” Sam inquires, blinking.

“Well, you always complain Adam sucks me off better,” replies Dean.

Adam frowns between the older men. “It’s only because Dean is sm–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean breaks in. Sam laughs and it's echoed by the mirrors Balthazar has lined the studio walls with. “You put that mouth to better use or I’ll throw you over my knees, kid. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Then get over here and do it,” Adam says, challenge lightning-blue in his eyes.

Dean does as he’s bid. However, when he says, “Get on your hands and knees,” Adam also rushes to comply. Dean climbs the bed and stands on his own knees, dick level with Adam’s mouth. He buries his hand into Adam’s hair. “Suck.”

Sam, meanwhile, rounds to the side of the bed to get a better view, riveted by the way Adam’s lips stretch obscenely pink over Dean’s cock, by how his brothers' bodies twine together like puzzle pieces in love. He picks his clothes off en route and hisses at the feel of expensive fabric against his erection. The lube is too cold on his heated skin at first, but warms as he rubs it in, first across the engorged head, next the swollen base, all the way down to his balls. Sam jerks himself off roughly, the funnel of his fist tight so he doesn't cum yet. He notices that the hand Adam isn't using to level himself is working between his legs, as well, as his head works between Dean's, and Sam can't wait any longer.

He scales the bed, blankets his giant body over Adam's sweaty back and whispers into his ear, “Don't stop sucking. I'm going to put my fingers in, okay?” Adam's eyes unscrew and go round. He manages a curt nod and Sam grabs his ass, splits his cheeks open wide so the clench of his puckered pink hole is evident. The lube on Sam's fingers leaves clear smudges across Adam's buttocks that spread more as Sam brings his digits closer. They're still slick from their prior use, but Adam's body protests even the first's intrusion and he shuts his eyes again.

Dean's grip unwinds from Adam's hair to hold his face. “Addie, hey, ya gotta relax. You okay?” Adam nods again and Dean smiles. Sam's finger prods deeper. “Atta boy. Loosen up and it won't – _oh_.” Dean trails off when Sam adds a second, then third appendage, scissoring and probing with them. Adam's moan vibrates up Dean's dick. His tongue continues to lave it root to tip, lapping at the slit, even pressing into the sensitive area above Dean's balls. “Y-yeah, baby, just like that, so good,” the eldest Winchester pants.

Sam bows his head to kiss Adam's shoulder, all the while aligning the head of his cock with Adam's newly stretched hole, which acquits his fingers reluctantly. They're relocated to Adam's waist again. Adam presses back into his brother and Sam meets him halfway. He enters slowly, carefully, but aside from a slight flinch, Adam's doesn't appear any less eager. With a firm grasp on Adam's pelvis, Sam snaps his own hips forward to fully sheathe himself into Adam's snug heat.

Adam throats Dean even deeper, as a result, humming at the brief burn. Dean cums with an affectionately grunted, “ _Baby_.”

It doesn't take the eldest Winchester long to catch his breath. He extricates his flaccid dick from Adam's puffy lips and sits back near the bottom of the bed, legs crossed into a pretzel. It's the perfect position to absorb Sam's blissful expression, the way he bucks inside their younger brother, how beautiful Adam looks with semen all over his face, his newly empty mouth a perfect 'o' of pleasure that can't remain quiet any longer – and shouldn't, because it means Dean knows the exact moment Sam finds his prostate. It can make even the most virile guy feel old, how gorgeous these two are. It certainly extracts an interested twitch from Dean's limp cock, but not much. There's always later.

As the staccato of Sam's dick grows more rapid, he unlatches one of his hands and circles it around Adam's, jacking him off in tandem with his own thrusts. Sam is the first to reach his orgasm, his moan muffled into Adam's back, but he doesn't still, jabs short and hitched now, until Adam curses out a final cry of pleasure.

Dean looks on as his younger brothers fall into a tangle of limbs. He crawls toward, then next to them. They both blink tired eyes at him. He smirks. “Round two?”

Sam grumbles under his breath at Dean's insouciance. His arm is arranged across Adam's waist, leaving his fingers close enough to flick Dean, who swats at him. Adam's first reply is the rumble of his stomach, his second, “You promised you'd feed me before Balthazar came back.”

The elder Winchesters both chuckle, Sam into Adam's hair, his palm spread on Adam's belly now, while Dean breaths warm against Adam's face. Adam keeps pouting until Dean fulfills his oath. Thirty minutes later. His older brothers 'make up' first, but he doesn't mind too much.

When Balthazar sees his favorite model again, he quirks an eyebrow at Adam's older brothers and immediately says, “The just-shagged look is pretty on the littlest Winchester. We'll make it work in our shoot.”

Crowley is not nearly as amused.

-

La Fin

-

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://ladyknightanka.livejournal.com/31813.html). May eventually be expanded into a longer 'verse, but I hope the porn was a good enough enticement. ;D


End file.
